


PTSD

by RoryChaze



Series: Stories from the 305th or Beskaryc bal Copyc [3]
Category: Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Mild Gore, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:32:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5663077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoryChaze/pseuds/RoryChaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Compilation of short stories about my original characters dealing with different kinds of PTSD.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sights

**Sights**

It was the seventh night that I had spent prowling our ship’s interior. Even though it was rather small, I always ended up in the hold. There was something comforting to me about the large empty space. I had been all over our 3-Z freighter, and the best room to just sit in was the hold. I had seen General Kora—no, Master—wait, Ali in the hold meditating a few times. She’s always told me that she doesn’t mind it if we join her, but I just can’t get my head wrapped around the idea of sitting still for hours with my eyes closed and focusing on nothing. Not to say that I can’t sit still. Looking down the scope of my Verpine sniper rifle while hidden in some brush is one of the more relaxing things I like to do.

My eye caught the storage box that I had scratched my number into. _ARC-9591._ There was a thin layer of dust covering the top of it. Unlike the rest of our little defect family, I didn’t pull out my armor anymore. I didn’t want to.

Ali had suggested we keep it, just in case. She thought it would come in handy if we ever found ourselves in a particularly difficult situation. I agree. Lightweight and durable, it was perfect for the battlefield, perfect for infiltration, perfect for a lot of missions. That armor saved my life more times than I like to count.

I looked away from the box, but my heart rate was still accelerated. That didn’t make me happy. I kept feeling the need to go and open it, even though I knew exactly what was inside. A thermo body suit. Respirator helmet with communication and sight enhancements. Unattached night and thermal vision sensor. The full suit of armor with proper markings and colors. Vibroblade attachment to forearm guards. Radio and commlink arm attachments. Double-sided pauldrons with canister strap. Kama with extra ammo and weapons storage, decorated in the 305th’s colors. Belt with multiple compartments for any number of things. Thermo boots. A pack that still had dry rations, cable, canisters and filters, med equipment, and extra ammo; it was always smart to have an emergency pack ready to go. And a Deece fifteen-ex sniper rifle with scope attachments.

I looked back at the box and frowned. Walking over to it, I slid my hand across the surface. A fine cloud of dust brushed off and I could read the stamped writing better. _Prop 305 th Supply Ammo. _Sometimes I couldn’t believe that the war was over. That we were fugitives. It was hard enough.

Then there were the times I couldn’t sleep. It was always the same guilt. Replaying and replaying in my head.

I toed open the switch lock and kicked the box open quickly. There, right on top, the one thing I dreaded seeing more than anything else.

My loose clothes stuck to me and I could feel my breathing get heavy. I thought after a few months it would get easier. Trick and Push assured me it wouldn’t. I was sure it would.

The rifle was just lying there. Its safety was on, and it didn’t have any ammo. It wasn’t dangerous. Not anymore. But it was. In its own way.

I took a deep breath as the memory forced its way up. It took a lot to suppress it.

I had seen him raise his blaster. He was the lieutenant, that was his job. He had heard the order. I had been standing right beside her. I wasn’t going to follow the order. She had protected us with her life just as much as we had protected her. But he followed it. I wish he hadn’t.

Being a leader meant taking charge. He had always been good at that. He took a shot. The first shot.

It was instinct. Ordinance. I remember raising the gun. Then shooting.

Being a good marksman means hitting the intended target the first time. There’s no room for mistakes in war.

I could feel my nails digging into my palms, but I ignored it.

He had fallen quickly. A one-shot kill. The way it was supposed to be.

I kicked the box closed again and didn’t bother locking it.

Turning my back from the cold-heartedness, I walked out of the hold and back around the ship’s interior to the cockpit.


	2. Push

**Push**

I didn’t notice my leg bouncing up and down until Trick mentioned it. It was a good thing the two of us were still together through all of this. I could tell in his silence just as well as in mine that we were grateful for each other’s company.

A small noise made me flinch. It was embarrassing really, especially in front of my Captain. But as I looked over at him, he grinned at me with a look of pity. That was worse than embarrassment, it was shame; and shame and soldier didn’t go well together.

I stood up and scanned the area for any threats, even though I was guaranteed none. Old habits, I guess. I looked over my shoulder and gave Trick a half salute; he put his fingers to his forehead too.

I walked around the corridor of our ship with one hand brushing against the wall. Sights was at the helm and if I knew his flying we’d end up in an asteroid field being banged around. My right hand pushed against my left shoulder as I thought about it.

I walked past the engine room and saw Dusk and Ali working on something, _So that’s why Sights is flying._ A static noise sounded from the room and my body went into alert. That was a noise I was all too familiar with on the battlefield, especially being an ARC. I felt myself looking for my HUD, my heads-up display, that would tell me who had been shot down. Another noise and my arm instinctually grabbed my middle. It had sounded like blaster fire, maybe a little lower, but close, too close. My stomach ached from where I had grabbed it, the flare up of an old injury.   

I pulled my arm away in disgust and looked into the room. Dusk looked over and gave me a thumbs up while our old General held together two circuits. I smiled cautiously as she gave me a curious look over. I could see the words forming on her lips, _Are you okay, Push?_ I answered her before the question, “I’m fine, ma’am. Just getting up and stretching.”

She knew I was lying, I could tell; but she was good in that she didn’t ask us to talk about our problems, she expected us to talk when we wanted to. She nodded and turned back to their work.

I needed someplace quiet. I could feel the confined space creeping up on me, a trait most of us unwillingly inherited from Jango, and I knew the anxiety was not far behind.

I headed for the room I shared with my brothers. It would be quiet enough, and I would be in my own space and among my own things, it would have to work.

Turning the corner I ran right into Hyde. I jumped back and grabbed at the blaster at my side, aiming it at him, but I could see the end wasn’t steady. My feet were placed correctly, and the blaster was aimed properly, but I was shaking and I could tell.  

Hyde was still looking down at his datapad, “Push, please. Go get some anti-stim and lie down. You’re antsy and I don’t want it getting the best of you or of me.”

That was our medic for you, blunt. Hyde was always the first one to say what was on his mind. “Second cabinet up?”

He looked up from his ‘pad and gave me a soft smile, “Always will be. It’s an easily affordable drug so please use what you want, but I will know if you OD. So don’t.” I saw his hand reach out and then fall back to his side. “Rest. That and anti-stim are all you need right now. I would rather not have you lurking around corners with your safety off.”

As Hyde moved around me I muttered a thank you.

If there was anyone who knew what I was going through it was my brothers, but we all handled it differently. For now, I’d do as the medic ordered.


	3. Dusk

**Dusk**

NavSys fried. I’m the slicer, so I get to fix it.

General Kora offered her help. She’s no good with electronics, but has steady hands.

She already fit five circuits together. One more to go. This already took longer than expected.

General Kora held the last one. I ran the system.

Aurebesh moved across the screen.

_System run. Nav index req. Enter code._

It worked. I started the code sequence.

“Is it working?” General Kora asked.

I nodded, “Running the coded sequence now. Smugglers scramble.”

She sighed with relief—I think. “Perfect. Do you need me for anything else?”

“All code from here,” I shook my head.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” She patted my shoulder.

Sarge did that. When he was feeling particularly fatherly. I remember him looking me over after the first time.

I was being trained as a Sergeant. He believed I could do it. But I had gotten a brother injured. He didn’t blame me. At six, genetic age twelve, I had failed my duty. I had failed my squad. He didn’t think so.

We were reassigned. We tried again. Two injuries.

My squad began to break. My brothers began to break.

We healed. We tried again. Full pass in right under record time.

Then the war.

The pressure of training was nothing compared to the reality of it. We survived though.

I was transferred to General Kora. We were Rho and Iota Squads then. Iota lost a man. Their sergeant Lux. I was put in charge of both squads.

Our squads were reassigned after. Rho went down to four again. And after infiltrating Null we were known as the Katarns. We were engineered to thrive in stealth. And we succeeded in all of our missions.

It was on Phindar I failed. It felt like I was young again. I can still see Breaks going down. Dawes being ripped apart. Zion falling into darkness. I had lost my brothers again.

I had made the call.  

I had led each of them to death.

A hand patted my shoulder. “Sarge.” My throat was dry.

“Dusk?”

“Sarge. I’m sorry.”

“Dusk.”

General Kora still had her hand on my shoulder.

The soldier snapped back into me.

“General Kora.”

She was looking at me funny. “Dusk, are you alright?”

“Fine, ma’am.”

Still the odd look. “Okay.” She said it slowly. “I’m going to get some food if you need me again.”

I nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

I watched her go. She wasn’t Sarge, but she cared as much.


	4. Hyde

**Hyde**

The small bed creaked under me as I sat down on it cradling my right hand. General Kora had decided to convert one of the small rooms into a personal medical bay for us. We could all get a tad reckless when it came to our new missions, although I wouldn’t necessarily call them missions. The legality of our activities was the main issue with me, but it bought us food, clothing, fuel, and ammo at the end of the day so I can’t really complain.

I reached for the bacta spray and let the medication set on my knuckles; the slight stinging sensation was always rather satisfying to me. It reminded me that I was still alive even through the adrenaline.

Reacting slowly and carefully, I helped stretch out my fingers one by one to check for broken bones. I felt a sharp pain in my middle finger and pinched around it to find the break. “Fierfek,” I muttered, using the huttese curse word all of us clones had picked up during the war. I pinched the bottom section of my finger again and felt the place where it had snapped. There was clearly a break and I inhaled sharply.

This was going to be painful, and I wasn’t ever a fan of broken bones. I couldn’t even stand it when Push would crack his knuckles.

I gripped the middle section of my finger and held my breath. _Puuhp_. My teeth slammed together so hard it made my jaw hurt and I exhaled with a hiss. I grabbed for the wraps quickly, before it began to swell too much, and began the process of splinting my hand.  

I don’t know what made me hit the resilient duristeel of our hull, and I could have sworn I was wearing my gauntlets. I couldn’t even remember walking into the cargo bay. I do remember passing Sights as he made his way back to the cockpit. He grinned at me and said, “Ner vod” as he passed, Mando’a for “my brother.” He was still learning, but I wasn’t keen to hear it. “Sights,” I had acknowledged him.

I fit a small plate that reached up my finger into my palm and kept wrapping. It was almost like I was burying my anger into the folds of the cloth. Recalling certain events from the past were uncomfortable and made me want to get rid of them quickly. Quickly, in my case, was apparently hitting something; I could remember the reasoning, but not really anything else. It was almost like my mind just blanked on all of the details, and then I was sitting down with a bleeding hand and blood on the wall. I can put two and two together.

The only thing I _can_ remember is Twi. That’s it. And that was enough to tell me what I had feared I’d been doing to myself for the past year. I’m such a di’kut, an idiot, a moron. I should have realized it earlier.

My left hand squeezed the wraps hard, and I inhaled deeply, trying to suppress the anger building inside again. I would not let it get to me. Not again.

I kept wrapping while thinking. Dusk certainly had it; he would zone out all too often. He once mentioned it had to do with his old squad, like mine did, but didn’t say more. Sights I was unsure of, a smile was always plastered on his face and that kid had a mouth that could get us all in trouble. Push was the complete opposite; we all saw it. The way he would walk in a guarded stance, like he had his conc rifle over his shoulder still. The Captain, I had only heard him once. He was good at not letting us know. And apparently I expressed symptoms too. I’d have to watch myself.


	5. Trick

**Trick**

She kept a weak grip on my armor. It felt like I was walking through mud. I could see our cannons in the distance. I just have to get there. _We_ just have to get there. Looking down I saw that she was bleeding from the injury in her side, and blood was on her lips as well. I knew the symptoms of a collapsed lung well enough.

I ran over to a building for cover and gently set her down. A grin flashed across her face and she touched my helmet. _“Good. She’s still alive.”_ I thought as I took off my helmet for her. My brown eyes met hers and I could almost feel a wave of trust pass through us. She trusted me to get her back alive, and I trusted her not to die before that happened.

I reached behind me where I kept all of my stims in a pouch on my belt. I pushed two needles into her and took out a small marker for her arm. _P_ for plenty. _Z_ for blood loss. Because B looks too much like P when you’re in a hurry.

I reached under her and started running towards base again. It was my call to retreat, and I wasn’t happy about it. I knew Ali would have a different opinion, but I hated that our position was compromised.

Shots from our battalion zipped around me as I kept up pace. “I TOLD YOU DI’KUTE TO RETREAT! PULL BACK!” I knew they heard me because many started moving backwards, and our prone snipers sat up.

In the distance I could see Push commanding the cannons. It was an odd relief to know that he would take care of the company if I were ever killed. I could also see the whirring blades of our General as she took out a squad of droids on STAPs.

I dodged and darted, not being able to use my blasters with this girl in my arms.

Push then pointed in my direction and I heard him on my helmet comm channel, “Captain, you might want to run a wee faster.”

I picked up my pace and headed for Push.

“We’ve got the cannons trained.”

“FIRE!” That was my first mistake.

The blast shook the ground and sent shrapnel everywhere, but I covered the girl as I kept running.

I turned to dodge around a SBD. Second mistake.

The next volley from the cannon rang out. Shrapnel flew over us again.

Third mistake.

I had covered her. It was instinct. Like covering your head when a blast goes off.

The next thing I knew I was carrying deadweight.

My pace slowed to conserve my energy. My body knew what happened, but I could feel my mind slipping.

_“Just get to Push. Just...”_

“TRICK!”

My eyes flew open to see a mass of blonde and two deep blue eyes.

I was breathing hard and I was cold. Really cold.

“You’re soaked.” Ali grabbed a blanket lying near and wrapped it quickly around me.

She reached over and brushed a strand of hair stuck to my forehead away. I flinched and tried to calm down.

“Hey. Hey…” she took my head in her hands and kissed the top of it, “It’s over. You’re not in battle. You’re okay.”

My mind relaxed instantly, but my heart was still pounding from the fake adrenaline rush. Ali was the only one who had seen me like this.

“It was her again…” I swallowed.

Her fingers brushed across my temples. “I know. You did your best, but you can’t save everybody.”

“I know.” My heartbeat was slowing and calming down with Ali’s presence.

“You’re a good solider; you gave it your all. And you had already saved so many.”

I didn’t ignore the fact that she had used the present tense when she said soldier. “I know.”

She smiled meekly, “I know you know. I just—”

“I do appreciate the reminder.” I looked up at her. She was always the one to keep me grounded. She was always the one to bring me back to reality. She _was_ my reality.


End file.
